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Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria College, Wellington, N.Z. Vol. 4, No. 3. April 09, 1941

Victoria

page 4

Victoria

Chapter III.

Mood Indigo.

After the vileness of her lover had been so incontestably exposed, the next few days were dark indeed for Viki. Life was empty—while other students hung breathlessly on the professor's every word, immortalising in writing even the aphoristic preamble "Good evening," Viki could not be thrilled even by the English metaphysical poets, or the cerebral lesions of the superior corpus quadrigeminum.

The tall, handsome boy who, she had thought, looked divine, now seemed insipid; even the dashing personality of Miss Gay Dross (hitherto thought by experts, to be irresistable) left her cold. Life had lost its savour.

A remark made by a very green fresher, who thought that his Stud. Ass. fees entitled him to membership of the Communist Party, revived her anguish so violently that she decided that this life must end. Accordingly, she set out to sing the "Red Flag" in the library. But suddenly truth dawned upon her. The Sec. of the Exec. wanted Gordime for herself. So she went to see the most mighty personage in the vicinity—the president of the Exec.

Chapter IV.

A True Briton.

The president heard Viki's story and looked profoundly wise. At last with aspect Sybilline, she spoke. "There are wheels within wheels," she husked. "This man apparently working for the disruption of all we hold so dear, and have bought so dearly (e.g., our Rhodesian copper-mines, our reserve labour supply, and freedom of the employer to enjoy the fruits of his own labourers) is in reality (for a small remuneration) watching the workers' movement from inside and keeping the Police informed of their actions. He must watch the 50% of our students who are tinged with this blight. (Five hundred students Can be wrong.) It is men like this that have made our democracy what it is to-day.

"By the way, can you billet someone. . . .?"

Chapter V.

Meet Me To-night.

The next thing to do was to tell Gordime of her passion. Accordingly she wrote a touching little letter, arranging to be by the notice-board at 7.15 p.m. on Wednesday, wearing a green cardigan and a tan frock.

At length the longed-for time arrived. But Gordime seemed to be in a hurry. "Must see a man about Easter Tournament," he said, and beetled off to the Gym. Sick at heart she followed at some distance. Drawn upstairs by a noise of savage debauchery, she found Gordime among about forty others, leaping and howling, his face screwed up into a frightening mask. She stopped at the door in horror, fascinated yet repelled by the awful sight. Should she go or should she stay? Gordime settled the question. "Kss kss kss hauwei!" he shrieked, gesticulating fiercely.

Viki staggered down the steps. It was bitter. To be left for this Esther Turncrman was bad enough, but that he should shout "Away" . . . She decided to join the Foreign Legion ... or the Tramping Club.

Viki's friends encouraged this drastic resolve. They thought it would broaden her.

Little did Viki realise when she added an apologetic signature to a list on the notice-board, the adventures that were to ensue from this decision.